Have A Good Day
by CheveronChick
Summary: Falling in love during a war is hard - told through a series of incredibly brief moments in time.


The morning bell rang, and breakfast was over. They no longer had an excuse to laze in the grass together, basking in the spring sun while enjoying their food. The day ahead of him was busy, and it seemed unlikely he would not even be able to see her at dinner later.

He stacked their plates and turned to reach behind him for the left over fruit, preparing to return them inside when he spotted the newly bloomed flower. Its bright yellow color warmed his heart, not unlike the sun.

Without thinking he plucked the flower carefully, thanking the plant as he brushed his hands against its leaves, turning back he held the flower out to her.

She blinked in surprise for a moment, and then as a slow grin crept across her lips she reached out to take it, "Whats this?"

He shrugged, suddenly a little embarrassed, "I hope you have a good day."

Then he took their plates and began his day.

…

He spotted her the moment he turned the corner, ahead of him walking with a good friend. Also seeing her immediately his father stopped whatever it was he had been saying with a knowing sigh, "Go on then."

He grinned at his father and took off at a jog, catching up with them easily and fell into step next to her, "What are you doing later?"

He could have sworn he saw her blush as she exchanged a glance with her friend for a moment, he tried not to match it when she easily linked her arm with his, "Nothing."

"Good, keep it that way." She threw him a puzzled look as he was pulling away, pausing at a short distance away, "I'll find you after dinner, okay?"

Her nose wrinkled with further confusion, but a smile tugged at her lips, "Okay."

"Good, I have to go. I hope you have a good day." He ran back to his father who was waiting for him at the top of a flight of stairs, praying his father wouldn't notice his blush.

…

Somebody knocked on his father's door, and he tried to ignore the fact that his heart had leapt into his throat when she entered after a call to enter.

She seemed excited about something, "I apologize for intruding."

"Not at all." His father answered for him when his heart took its time climbing back down into his chest.

"Are you busy?"

He looked to his father, wondering if he would be angry to have his company abandon him, but again his father answered for him, "No, he isn't."

"It's the first snowfall and I was wondering if you wanted to come enjoy it with me."

He leapt to his feet as fast as his heart had earlier, calling a goodbye behind him as they raced out the door.

…

The winter storm raged outside, but they ignored it. Snuck and warm under the sheet they had strung up with strategic furniture placement to form a tent around them. The only open end faced the fire, which crackled happily.

"That is a terrible horse."

He gasped in offense, "What are you talking about? That is an amazing horse."

She gestured to the shadow puppet that clouded part of their sheet-tent, "It looks like a dog!"

He gasped again, dropping his hands, "If you aren't going to appreciate the art then you don't get to hear the story."

She tried to hold back a laugh at his tone, "No, please tell me. I want to hear it."

He turned his head away from her, "No. You hurt my feelings."

She forcefully turned his back in her direction, face full of wonderfully faked sincerity, "I lied, it is an amazing horse. The best horse I've ever seen."

Even with something so simple as an awful made up story he could not say no to her, "If you promise to behave, then I will resume our mighty tale of Elrohir the lonely, disfigured horse."

…

Summer solstice had always been his favorite celebration. He loved being able to dance under the tree's, admiring the hundreds of lit candles and fires around him. But this year he hardly even noticed them.

The second he entered the clearing, he asked her to dance. Silently praying he would not stumble over his words. They had danced together before, countless times in fact. But this was different.

He spared not even a glance to one single candle, his eyes only for her.

Every time a song ended, when they were supposed to find a new partner, he asked her to dance. Every time she said yes.

…

The meetings were long, and very nearly the definition of boring. It felt as if each minute was an hour, and each hour was at least ten years. It felt as if he had been born in this room, he would live in this room, and he would die in this room.

Slowly, her hand slid into his under the table and weaved their fingers together.

Maybe it wasn't so bad after all.

… **.**

The leaves had just begun to turn into wonderful shades from yellow to red, as much joy as she found playing in the snow he knew she liked fall the best.

Every Night for two weeks now they had gone for walks either in the gardens or the forest. They were busy during the day, too busy to spend much time together. But their evenings and nights they were free to do with as they wished.

And he wished to spend it in her company.

He noticed her watching him, eyes holding their burning warmth he loved so much, if he wasn't so nervous he might have kissed her. But he didn't and instead asked, "What?"

She continued to stare at him with her impossibly soft eyes, then she kissed him on the cheek and continued walking deeper into the forest and off the trail, "Nothing."

He didn't believe her, but still he bounded into the forest after her, taking her hands once again.

… **..**

It was late, very late. He did not honestly expect her to still be awake, even if he had walked her to her door only hours before, but he was worried he would lose his nerve if he waited until morning. Like he had lost it earlier that day when they had been walking in the forest, enjoying the crunch of the driest leaves under their feet.

Like he had been doing for weeks

She had turned to him with the sunset in her hair, and the loveliest smile he had ever seen and his nerve had vanished into thin air.

Somehow a light still glowed from under her door, he didn't pause because if he paused there was a very high chance he might literally run away. He knocked.

Then he waited.

One second, two seconds, three seconds, his feet prepared to make their retreat when she pulled open the door.

Seeing him standing there her frown transformed into a confused smile, "Is everything okay?"

He stepped closer to her so that they were practically touching but not quite, his confidence was raised when she didn't step back. He was going to lose his nerve, he could feel it.

But then her hand came up to gently cup his face to bring it down to hers and his arms wrapped around her waist to pull her closer as he kissed her.

…

They all collapsed in the shade the trees provided from the blistering sun, gasping for breath and dabbing the sweat from their faces. All of the archers training had been tripled and the archery master was drilling them until they felt as if they might die, and then continued.

He knew it was because his father was worried. Worried about what was to come, worried that they would not be prepared, worried they would have to watch another home burn to the ground.

She poured a bit of ice water over a spare cloth and draped it over his forehead before throwing herself to the ground next to him. Nearby there were miserable from the other archers as they did the same around him.

Still trying to catch her breath she groaned, "I feel like I died a week ago."

"Still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

…

He frowned when he saw her come back through the gates from his window, she wasn't supposed to be back for several hours yet. The trail she and her freinds had chosen to walk took several hours at the very least, even for elves.

His frown deepened and a deep pit of worry bloomed in his heart, she was limping, and being supported by another elf. Something was wrong.

Somebody screamed.

Not wasting time with stairs, he opened the window and clambered into the tree that stood right outside of it, swinging into the embrace of the branches easily. He dropped to the ground and raced across the grass, cutting through the crowd like a knife through butter.

As he drew nearer he smelled the metallic sting of blood, but something else. Something foul and twisted and wrong.

By the time he reached her, whoever had been supporting her had apparently given up because she sat on the ground and was peering at a wound in her leg. Her entire body trembled violently and her eyes seemed unable to stop the relentless tears, the flesh around the wound had turned a deep purple, almost black.

It was where the foul smell was coming from. Something was wrong.

The moment she saw him she reached out for him, wanting nothing more than to feel the safety, comfort, and peace he brought her. Without hesitation, he scooped her up into his arms as if she weighed no more than a child, and began taking her to the healing ward.

"There were spiders. Huge, dark and angry spiders."

… **..**

She had known to come find him, somehow.

She placed a little yellow flower in front of him on the desk, and it took his mind the newest scout reports about the Orcs and reminded him of the sun. She perched carefully on the corner of his desk, right next to where his head rested on his arm.

Wordlessly she grasped his arm and gently pulled him so his head was resting in her lap, he allowed it somewhat gratefully. For a while, he just hugged her waist, while she hummed a song and rant her fingers soothingly through his hair.

Everything his father had been warning about this entire time was begging to sink it, and he was beginning to form a picture of what might be to come. It was not a pretty picture.

Her humming stopped, but there was only silence for a moment, "Once upon a time there was a very smelly frog named Elladan."

…

They were both tired. Exhausted even. Neither of them could sleep.

Most of their patrol had drifted off the moment they laid on their bedrolls, so they had snuck away. Not far, there was no going far from their patrol so deep into the woods. More to keep themselves from earning their captains wrath than safety, or so they liked to believe.

They had just left the cave to sit under the stars, his back leaned against a fallen log with both her legs draped over him. She nestled into his side, his arms holding a blanket and wrapped around her.

Morning would come early and promised another grueling and potentially danger-filled day. But sometimes, moments likes these seemed more restful than sleep anyways.

…

He didn't remember much after hearing her scream. He didn't remember how he got injured. He didn't remember falling into the river and being swept away. He didn't even remember somehow stumbling his way halfway back before anybody found him.

All he remembered was seeing a sharp blade aiming for her neck, and then her screaming.

His bed was soft, but not soft enough to be back at the stronghold yet, not yet carefully tucked into the healing ward under his father's watchful eye. His chest still ached, and his leg throbbed. He wasn't sure he wanted to know why.

"You're awake!" Her face swam into view, still streaked with mud and sporting a split in her forehead. She leaned down to kiss him gently and lovingly, then she kissed his forehead and demanded, "What were you thinking?"

He didn't remember what he had been thinking. "I know what I'm thinking now."

"That you are beyond foolish?"

"I love you."

…

For a moment he didn't believe his own eyes when he saw her standing in front of him in the forest. Bow in hand, daggers strapped to her back, and various other small weapons attached to her entire body. She looked like one of the deadliest things in the forest, and to him still the most beautiful.

He had not seen her in a few months. Had not even heard so much as a whisper from her since he read the letter she had left on his bed for him to find when he had gotten back home since she would not be there to tell say anything to him herself. Her patrol had departed once more four days before his return.

Often he longed for the days when they were still on the same patrols, and not captains of their own. Especially at night, when the dark creatures were at their most deadly and there was no way for him to know if she still lived. Or when he could smell smoke and see it rise into the clouds, hoping beyond hope she was not trapped in it.

This moment, seeing her standing there, felt like the greatest gift Eru could have given him at that moment.

His heart still stung from the loss they had suffered earlier in the week, another elf departed to the halls. Another friend gone.

Everything ached, but that was more due to emotions than overworking them. They were used to this now. Used to sleeping in trees, eating cold food, and having no proper rest for several weeks at a time.

He wasn't used to not seeing her.

She flung her arms around his neck and held him tightly, and he whispered thanks to Eru into her hair, eyes closed and savoring the feeling of her presence and comfort.

Savoring it because he knew it wouldn't last. It couldn't.

… **.**

But Moments like these were difficult to come by now. Moments with her at all were begging more and more difficult. Today was the first day he had seen her in a bit over two months, both of them always preoccupied with their duties. With the like these allowed him to forget some things, if only for a moment.

She had only returned from her patrol a few hours earlier. She should have been called back a month ago, but there were too many injured captains and none to take her place. He had only returned a week ago but would be leaving once more in two days.

But right now the garden was peaceful, the moon and the stars twinkled in the sky and a few fireflies kissed the petals of flowers.

There was no music, but he held his hand out to her all the same, "Dance with me?"

…

So many dead.

His grief threatened to swallow him everytime he thought about it.

He gazed around himself numbly, taking in all of the bodies. Elves. Humans. Dwarves. Orcs. He had even seen one of the great eagles fall from the sky.

So many gone.

More than half of those that had survived were injured, one way or another. All of them were changed. There was no forgetting this. No forgetting the screams of the humans as the dragon burnt their town. No forgetting the smell. No forgetting all the helpless pleas of his dying friends.

A sob from nearby.

Perhaps the only sound that could have convinced his body to come alive once more, and in an instant he was scrambling over to her, hiding her face in his shoulder as if he could protect her from this. From all of this.

Could keep her from seeing the dead, feeling the grief.

She clung to him desperately, wishing she could do the exact same thing for him. But they couldn't protect each other, hadn't been able to for many years, at times it seemed almost impossible to even protect themselves.

…

The morning bell rang, and it was time for him to leave. The sun was hidden behind the clouds still, the air was chilled and the grass frosted. The trip from here to Imladris would take some time, but his heart seemed certain that they would not be together again for a very long time.

He had kissed her in the courtyard by the gates with everything he had, not caring in the slightest who might be looking and held her until the last possible second. Pulling away he pulled the carving of a flower from his pocket, painted with the brightest yellow he had been able to find.

She blinked at it in surprise for a moment, and then a softly trembling hand reached out to take it, "Whats this?"

He shrugged, suddenly fighting a lump in his throat, "I hope you have a good day, every day, until I see you again."

And then he turned towards Imladris.

…

 **Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it!**

 **I would love to hear from you**


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